The Starkest Truth (A Breaking Insanity Novel Book 2) (27 page)

He hadn’t indicated he knew the truth of what happened between Preston and me, but somehow, he knew what I needed. It didn’t erase the past, but it enabled me to see a glimpse of the future.
 

I nodded to him, telling him that yes, I understood.

“We’re going to be okay. I promise you.” He slipped his palm around the outside of my thigh and pulled my legs closed. “Would you care if people saw you masturbating in the middle of a restaurant?”

I was so lost in the moment, I forgot where we were. “No…I wouldn’t.” A smile appeared across my lips, because I could scarcely believe what I’d just done. I should’ve been ashamed. I was anything but. I felt…empowered.

“Why?” he asked with a confidence that told me he knew the answer, but wanted to hear me affirm it.

“Because you made me not care.”

His hands slipped up to either side of my face to quickly remove the blindfold. “Are you disappointed?”
 

I looked around the small, private space inhabited by only us and smiled. “If you don’t plan to do what I fantasized about when I touched myself, I will be.” We locked eyes, projecting silent words of regret.

“Nik?” He leaned forward. Grabbing my outer thigh, he pulled me closer to his body. “It’s my fault for making you think I didn’t want you—that you weren’t the center of my life anymore. For not protecting you when you needed me. I never want you to feel as if you’re just like the others. You’re not, my twisted angel.” He gently kissed me.
 

I kissed him strongly, hungry with a need I wanted filled. Mindlessly, I stroked his erection as it throbbed down the leg of his pants, begging to be set free.

He sucked in a breath and gently removed his lips from mine. “We need to get out of here…right now,” he strained. “Because if you keep stroking my cock like that—as turned on as I am—you’re going to make me come.” He took my hand to his mouth. Sliding my fingers against his bottom lip, he kissed the pads of my fingertips.

My desire for him hit an uncontrollable peak. My sex ached for something more.

He ran his nose down the bridge of mine with a wide smile. “Let’s go home.”

I REMAINED BY THE stairwell as I watched Eric walk to the rear of the house and let Kifo out through the back door that led to the deck. Resting his form against the doorframe, he loosened his tie. As I watched him, my heart sputtered; I became entranced by his beauty. He cast a look my way and smiled.

With one hand on my hip, I beckoned for him with my other hand. He stalked toward me, confidently with long strides. He undid his tie and removed his cufflinks, dropping them on the coffee table.

When he stood in front of me, he tried to kiss me. I backed away and shook my head. Running my palms up his chest, I felt the ripples of his body underneath his crisp white shirt. Stopping at his tie, I slipped it from his neck and allowed it to fall to the floor.

“What are you doing, Nik?” he asked with a quiet amusement.

I put a finger to my lips and tossed my head from side to side.
 

Grabbing the end of his belt, I unfastened it. Moving quickly, I unfastened his pants and pulled them down, his boxer-briefs with it. I noticed, despite his unease, my attempt to seduce him turned him on. He was fully erect for me.

I pushed him back, forcing him to fall onto the couch. When I slipped to my knees, I failed to do it as sexily as I’d imagined in my head.
 

Reaching up, I surrounded a part of his shaft in my hand; his cock jumped and throbbed inside my grip. I cast my eyes up to him. Looking down at me with his lids drawn low across his eyes, he placed his arms behind his head and winked at me.

I took the head of his erection in my mouth, before slowly inching my mouth all the way down to the base of his shaft.

He growled, “Fuck, yes, Nikki. Suck it, baby,” and threw his head back until it lay against the back of the couch. I rocked my hands in winding circles in direct opposition with the movement of my mouth. My tongue laid flat against the large vein that ran up the underside of his thickness, sucking deeply and with just the right amount of pressure.
 

He writhed on the couch, biting his lip so hard, I think he drew blood. He tipped up his head, watching me as I watched him. I reached up to finger his mouth as I continued to take him down. My fingers slipped inside his mouth as he gave the tips of my fingernails a gentle bite. His mouth opened again to let out a guttural groan. I worked faster, allowing the head to hit deep inside the back of my throat and coat it with a small amount of tangy, liquid warmth. When his legs tensed, I withdrew.

“Fucking brutal.” His head fell back on the back of the couch in defeat.
 

Using one end of the couch, I guided myself to stand. I slipped my dress up to my hips and turned around. I hovered over his lap until I felt the head of his erection. My hand surrounded the shaft and slowly worked it over my opening, moistening my slit until the head eased inside of me.
 

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned and slipped forward, his forehead touching my spine. Utilizing his opened legs as guides for my hands, I undulated my hips. I rocked deeper until the thick head of his cock hit my end. I softly moaned as the slow teasing sensation of the friction began to take me.
 

My core rang more sensitive than it usually did…rendering me on the verge of a climax quickly.

I rocked harder, making him curse my name. The need to have him come with me drove my relentless pace. My sex began to vibrate with pleasure. A debilitating rush worked from my sex and moved up my spine, sending a tingle to the back of my head. I collapsed back against his body, too tired to move.
 

Resting his chin on the curvature of my neck, he slipped his hands down to my clit. He sank his teeth into my shoulder and slapped my clit with his open palm.

“Aye,” I yelped.

“We’re not done until I come, and you come on my cock…and in my mouth a few more times.” Standing, he cradled my body, scooping me into his arms. He fully stepped out of his bottoms that pooled at his ankles, and traveled upstairs with me in his arms.

Placing me down on the bed in our bedroom, he completely undressed me and what little was left on his body was removed. Our bodies intertwined and tangled with one another on the bed. His teeth lightly sank into my lips as his hands provoked my sensitive nipples.
 

Raking his lips down my neck, he continued to kiss his way down my body until his mouth surrounded my areolas. His lips and tongue toyed with my nipples, making me squirm underneath him. He rolled my lower half to the side, my back remained flat against the bed. Hovering over me at arm’s length, he watched me with an intense fire in his eyes. I reached up, fingering his biceps as they worked to hold his upper body apart from me. Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, he grabbed his erection and entered me.

The piercing look in his eyes made me shiver. The feeling of him inside me, filling me, sent shockwaves to every nerve. I clasped my hand to his jawline, my eyelids drawing heavy as he rocked me in long, steady strokes. With his body crouched forward, he quickened the pace of his strokes. His groin slapped loudly against my behind.
 

Balling the sheets in my fists, I shut my eyes, feeling a second rush pending and more explosive than the first.

He leaned in my ear and bit it. “Open your eyes, baby. I want to see in those doll-eyes how good this cock is making you feel.” He continued to glide in and withdraw from me at a slow, methodic pace.
 

I gazed at him, barely able to comply. His pace sent my body into a constant state of ecstasy. The friction moved me in a crazy way. My body melded back against the bed as the electricity shocked me cold. I relented, clenching around his girth on the verge of a climax.

He rocked me harder, his eyes nearly closing. “That’s it. Come all over this cock, baby.”

As he rocked me strongly, slapping his groin against the side of my behind, I tensed before releasing into intemperate convulsions.

He grew rigid as he pounded me, sending my body into a constant climatic state.

“Ah, fuck, Nikki.” He continued to thrust inside me between sexually charged groans. “Your tight, juicy pussy going to strain the cum out of my cock.” Hot warmth filled me, making me melt with him. We both fell still, our arms firmly around each other, our heavy breathing patterns almost in sync.

The stillness only lasted for a moment before he slipped down my body and manipulated my sex with his expert mouth.

“Nik?” Eric called sweetly as his hand ran up my naked legs.
 

In the calm post-coital aftermath, my thoughts continued to discomfort me and prevented my body from succumbing to my exhaustion. I moved my head to look at him as he lay next to me. There was a seriousness in his eyes that pushed my fear to the limit.

“Don’t do that,” he whispered, fingering my lips. “It’s not as bad as you think it is. I get that fucking you isn’t a cure. It’s complicated. I have to keep things from you to protect you.”

Fully turning around to face him, I shoved my hand underneath my pillow. I thumbed the edge of the black Egyptian cotton pillowcase, trying to swallow down his unexpected admission. “It’s not working,” I said, my voice hoarse and quiet. “It never works. Keeping things from me only makes things worse. Let me in, Eric. I can handle it now.”

His palm rested along the side of my jaw, his eyes full of apprehension. “Okay,” he swallowed carefully. “What do you want to know, Nik?”

I searched his eyes, watching the uncharacteristic apprehension increase. I reached down and brushed my hand down the side of the sloping curve at his waist. My focus remained glued to the tattoo. Taking a moment, I touched his bicep, fingering the slightly raised texture of the intricate angel wing tattoo. The tension in his face was perceptible. He grimaced, almost as if my touch hurt him. “Can we talk about that?” I asked, withdrawing my hand. “Not sure why I’m asking. I can put things together. The juvenile record. The fact that your uncle was a Sr. and not a Jr. Is that a gang tattoo, Eric? Were your parents’ deaths part of the jumping in process? Did you lose your cousin in some kind of gang war?”

He sat up, giving me his broad, muscular back to view as he teetered on the edge of the bed.
 

Bolting out of bed, I stood opposite Eric. In my haste, the blood rushed through my body a little too quickly, causing a nauseous sensation. “You said I could ask you anything,” I retorted, my voice straining to raise its pitch due to my taxed vocal chords. “What you really should’ve said is only the questions you want to answer, which as usual, are few and far between.”

He slammed up and turned around, staring back at me with the full extent of his ire. “Excuse the fuck out of me if you think I killed my parents for something as stupid as a fucking gang initiation. No. I killed them because they did nothing when my stepbrother started raping me night after night when I turned twelve. He raped me so much—so fucking brutally once—I had to have surgery. Surgery my father wouldn’t pay for. He wouldn’t even take me to the goddamn hospital. He pretty much told me to walk it off. I was in pain for weeks.
 

“If that didn’t top it off, come to find out my stepmother knew from the fucking get-go what he was doing to me. One time, she fucking smoked a joint, smiling from ear to ear while she took in the view of me being raped by her goddamn son. She did it to punish me because I didn’t keep my room as clean as she wanted it to be.

“I killed them, because I wanted it to stop. Because every time I tried to report it, my father’s friends in the police department laughed at me. Because when Tamala decided to report it, it got worse. He was a heavy, stupid fuck that overpowered me. I never could fight him off. Was so fucking tired of being in pain—” His breath caught, preventing him from continuing.
 

The look in his eyes and the tone of his voice differed from the first time. I could hear it with every ounce of his being. His family broke him.

“I was tired of being his bitch. Their bitch.”

Weeping with my heart completely obliterated, I slipped into his tailored shirt strewn across the wingback chair. Heavy sobs I tried to fight shook me to the core.

“What the fuck are you crying for?” he bellowed from behind me. “It didn’t happen to you. Shit, the worse your father did was threaten to send you to the psych ward, or foster care.”

“You don’t exactly know what my father did or didn’t do,” I remarked without turning around. “You only know what my mother told you, and she didn’t know everything.” I slunk back on the bed. “There are a lot of things that have happened to me—things I’ve never told you.”

I heard him take a big, loud, wavering breath. “I—” His tone fell into a remorseful stillness. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

I slipped off the bed and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I stared in the mirror, taking in the constant sadness stuck inside my large brown eyes that never seemed to want to go away. After hearing more pieces from Eric’s horrible past, the sorrow increased exponentially. No one could’ve survived the horrible things he went through unscathed. His life was full of every tragedy imaginable, and it seemed to have never stopped or slightly dissipated its effect on him until he met me. His past had found a way to severely affect his present, and for some reason, it seemed prepared to hurt me the most.